


Karma

by Chibi Kitten (Spookie_Kitten)



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Abuse, Gen, Original Character Death(s), Scars, Witch - Freeform, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 12:45:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spookie_Kitten/pseuds/Chibi%20Kitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young girl runs from her father, and seeks out her uncle. As a college student in Georgia, she discovers her life will take a huge turn, and meets four other people. Will she settle for their help, or will her hate of men steer her clear?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Small Steps for a Big Goal.

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Karma](https://archiveofourown.org/works/637444) by [Spookie_Kitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spookie_Kitten/pseuds/Spookie_Kitten). 



> Spookie_Kitten gave me permission to do what I wish to her works, so here is a modified version of her original story: Karma. I give thanks to her beta-reader, and thanks to Spookie for letting me tweak her works! :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing; not even the modified original character.

With the sun burning on her back, Diana ran as fast as she could along the open road.

She _had_ to get away from her father. The abuse was taking too much of a toll on her, but the only other family member still alive was her uncle, who lived in the bustling town of Middletown, Delaware, about twenty-six miles from the city of Dover. Diana lived in Baltimore, Maryland, a grueling seventy-one miles away. It was going to be a long run, but an increased wave of desperation took over, making her adrenaline start pumping and giving her the extra wave of energy to run a little farther.

She fell to the ground, unable to run any farther, and started to cry. 'Why was he abusing me?' she asked herself, huffing from the over-exertion. He would always come through the front door staggering and mumbling to his self. Diana would be in the kitchen, looking in the fridge, only to turn around and see him yelling at her with his slurred speech.

"Why're you s'ill up?" He hiccuped.

"I was hungry, daddy." Diana would say, closing the fridge.

"Come herr."

Staggering towards her, he grabbed her arm, turning her around forcefully, her hair flying everywhere. Keeping his firm grip on her arm, an extreme force took her by surprise, taking all of her breath from her lungs. Letting Diana go, the agonizing force continued; it went from her face to her left arm, then to her stomach and her right arm. Her father took advantage of the empty counter; anything that was in sight, he used. Some days, she would be barely breathing, but her father never took notice. Maybe he was sad from her mother dying from birthing her; she was never sure what went through his head.

Either way, when he had his fill, he demanded that the kitchen be as clean as a whistle.

A car pulled to the side of the road, its headlights shining on Diana. She looked up and saw a woman, with worry wrinkles across her forehead and stray gray hairs coming out of her tight bun, get out of her car.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" she asked, with worry in her voice. "Why are you out here?"

"My...daddy keep-ps hitting me." Diana sobbed.

She frowned, with her eyebrows furrowing, her wrinkles moving as she did. "Do you have anyone you can stay with?"

"My uncle," she whimpered, "He lives in Delaware."

The lady now looked determined. "That isn't far," She held out her hand, smiling sincerely. "Here, I can take you to your uncle's house."

Diana rubbed the tears from her eyes, and took her hand.

 

**~Years Later~**

 

Diana's first day of college was tommorrow, and she was checking her list for the seventh time to make sure she had everything. Her uncle came with her to Georgia to make sure her day went off on the right foot. He rented a hotel room, which wasn't the best Diana had seen, but it was good for a few days, with having only one bedroom and bathroom.

"Uncle Rob," Diana called. "Do you have any Tylenol?"

"It's in the cabinet, Diana, on the top shelf."

She was getting a headache from reading her small list of school supplies. Walking from the bedroom to the bathroom, she stretched forward to open the mirrored cabinet above the sink and fished out the Tylenol bottle that was in the back.

Once she took the pill, Diana left the bottle on the corner of the sink, knowing uncle Rob would be making quick use of it. She walked back to the bedroom and checked her list one last time before taking a nap.

Waking up, she looked to the clock, with its face staring back at her in mean red numbers reading 10:00 P.M. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly got out of bed, stretching her muscles, and lazily shuffled to the kitchen to find something to eat.

Diana opened the fridge, shying away from the light for a few moments while her eyes took the time to focus. Finding nothing appetizing, she randomly grabbed a few baby carrots from the bag on the middle shelf and munched in silence, admiring the crisp taste.

Finishing the last carrot, she slowly closed the fridge, taking the time to re-adjust to the shadows that expanded in the corners, slowly taking over the entire kitchen. She then snuck back to the bed, not taking the time to put the covers around her as the darkness consumed her.


	2. Trust Comes From Lies.

Diana woke up again, a week into college, with the hotel quiet. She shrugged it off and went to the bathroom, and paused to look in the mirror.

Her blue eyes were tired, but had a soft appearance. She still had all of the abusive scars from when she was younger, some worse than others. Her straight, dark blonde hair had a few tangles so she grabbed the brush from the other corner of the tiny sink and worked through her hair for a few minutes. Then, she put it back in a ponytail. Diana was 20, but the bruises and tired eyes made her look a lot older than she was. She walked out of the hotel carrying her books and her fifteen-page psychology report on the criminal mind. About forty feet from the Psychology building, she saw a classmate limping towards her.

"Hey, is something wrong?" Diana asked.

The classmate groaned, and with further analysis, there was blood all over their neck, mouth, and clothes. He had a pale complexion, and part of the skin from the neck was missing. Diana slowly walked backwards from the person, and turned around to run, dropping her books and report in the process. She didn't scream, most likely because the shock didn't set in. The campus was full of people who looked like the classmate she ran into. Exiting the campus, she ran back to the hotel, passing her room, and continued up the ten flights of stairs to the rooftop. When she came to the top, Diana slammed the door and sat on the dirty floor, making sure to keep an eye on the door every once in a while.

She was a little shaky from running ten flights of stairs, but she wasn't really tired. Running away from her father multiple times paid off. Shaking her head, she attempted to stop the memories from coming back. She saw a flying object from the distance. It was coming towards the building, but she couldn't make out what it was, but once it got closer, she realized it was a helicopter. Diana wove her hands in the air, but it turned around and went the opposite direction.

"Hey!" She yelled.

She must have forgotten about the door because she heard it burst open. There were four people, one of them being a woman. She looked older than her with a pink bloodied Depeche Mode t-shirt covered in dirt, faded black slim jeans and matching boots, with black hair pulled back into a messy ponytail and dark skin.

Following her, there was a man who looked middle aged with a white suit with shoes to match, both mostly brown from blood, and a blue dress shirt with slicked back dirty dark brown hair, with layered gold rings on his fingers. His hunting rifle gave a click.

“Who’re you?” He asked with his raspy voice, his eyes anything but sincere.

She ignored him.

There was a guy behind him, looking around Diana’s age, maybe older, with a bloody yellow Bull Shifters t-shirt and a dark blue mechanic jumpsuit, with the arms tied at his waist. He was wearing a blue hat with a picture of a white tow truck, covering his curly medium brown hair, and worn out brown boots, and had a light complexion, like her, only tanner.

Lastly, a man, who had a slightly grayed beard and a bald head, wore an orange and white t-shirt with blood stains forming x-marks in select places and rugged, long tan khakis with mostly white tennis shoes, yellowed from age and browned from dried…blood? And had dark skin, like the woman, followed him. They all had weapons, dirt, and bloodstains all over their clothes and hair. They all looked at her, and she silently stared back. 

"Hey guys, I think we got ourselves a survivor!" The woman informed.

"Whut's yer name, miss?" The southerner asked, smiling really big.

"Why would you want to know?" Diana snapped. It wiped the smile clean from his face.

The guy in the white suit glared at her in silence, and the bald guy had a questioning look on his face.

"Honey, what's your name?" The woman asked politely.

"Diana. You can call me Dee if you want to." She smiled warmly at the woman.

"I'm Rochelle. Coach," She pointed at the bald guy, "Nick," She then half-heartedly gestured at the guy in the white suit, and lastly pointed at the southerner. "And this is Ellis."

"We should grab some new weapons. The ones we have now aren't going to last much longer." Coach informed the group.

Diana rolled her eyes and looked to Rochelle, who was stocking up on ammo. She felt her glance, and turned to her.

"Are you gonna grab a weapon?"

"Yeah, once the men are done." She turned to the men and whispered something, but Diana didn't hear it. The men backed away from the table, and she approached it. There was a red pack with a white cross, so she figured it was a first-aid kit and grabbed it. Diana grabbed the crowbar and the two pistols, and turned to Rochelle.

"Okay everyone, follow me." Coach said.

"I am not following a man." Dee stood where she was. Coach looked at her.

"Why not?"

"I hate men."

"And why is that, cupcake?" Nick asked, turning his head slightly in mock confusion.

"You should shut up, before I shoot your head off. And don't call me cupcake."

The other three looked at her in silence.

“Who else wants to leave her?” Nick looked to the rest of the group, waiting for their input.

“You can’t just leave me here with those…things!” She defended.

“You have to learn to respect us, then.” Coach took Nick’s side. “No respect, no survival.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Diana snapped.

Nick cut in before Coach could speak. “Exactly that. You respect us, and you can join the group. If you want to be a bitch, be my guest. But we’re not going to take it.”

Coach and Rochelle nodded in agreement.

“Oh, I’m the bitch?” She asked rhetorically. “Look who’s talking, Mister ‘I-couldn’t-give-two-shits-about-anything!’”

“Can’t we jus’ ged alon—“

“NO!” Nick and Diana shouted in unison, not only leaving Ellis silent, but Nick and her exchanging glares.

“Don’t talk to Ellis like that.” Nick said flat-out. He then turned to the group. “Let’s go, guys.”

He motioned to the door, and with that, the rest of the group started to leave her.

“Wait!” she shouted.

They stopped, Nick being the only one to turn around.

“I’m sorry. It’s all of the stress and the lack of sleep that’s got me on edge.” She made up an excuse; anything for them not to leave her alone with the living dead.

“Are you going to respect us?” Coach asked.

“Yes.” Dee lied.

They motioned for her to join them.

“But,” she added, “Could Rochelle lead?”

They looked at Rochelle.

Rochelle sighed and walked past Nick, Ellis, and Coach, with Dee behind her, and the men behind Diana.


	3. Staying Comes at a Cost.

They all must have been fighting for a while, due to the pile of dead bodies everywhere, and Diana, along with Rochelle and one other person, had resorted to their melee weapons. It seemed like every hallway had its own pack of weird people, and everywhere they went, there appeared to be more than the last hallway.

The hallway they were presently on had a huge thing that puked everywhere, and was guarding a nearby weapons table that they desperately needed. If that wasn't enough, all of them were out of bullets, so they had to fight with their handy close-combat weapons. 

'Figures,' Diana thought to herself, 'those men can't even think to reserve any bullets.'

Eventually, they got to kill the huge thing, but they were all covered in bile. Practically sprinting to the table, they all quickly grabbed whatever they could, and ran to the elevator, with the sounds of rushing zombies coming towards them. They didn't really make much conversation after the door slid closed.

"You guys can actually defend yourselves. I might hang with you for a while." Nick said, smirking.

"Yeah, only because you can't save your sorry ass from these weird people." Dee retorted.

"Because you can?"

"Better than you, grease-pit."

"At least I can shoot."

"Really? The last time I checked, I heard you cursing about how you couldn't pull the trigger!" Her voice rose.

"At least I know how to work a gun."

"At least I know how to work a crowbar, so I can bash your face if you-"

"Enough. Let's just try to get out of here." Rochelle cut in. Couch nodded in agreement. Ellis stood there, looking like his hick-self.

After a good four hours, they had found a red steel door, and Rochelle (of course; Diana wouldn't let the men lead.) turned the knob, opening the door to a room filled with fist-aid packs, pain pills, adrenaline shots (Dee never understood what they were for), and an array of guns. The saferoom was well lit. Diana sat down in a corner, and asked Rochelle who those people were.

"Those aren't people. Those are zombies. There was a virus that spread around the United States and CEDA is looking for survivors."

"I don't understand," She looked up to her; she was cleaning her gun. "Don't viruses kill people, not make them into zombies?"

"They call this the Green Flu. It isn't really a Flu, but CEDA can't find any supposed 'cure' for it, so they want to gather up the immune."

"I'm immune?" Dee asked.

"You're not a zombie, are you?" She laughed.

Dee forced a shaky laugh, and shook her head.

Coach walked over to her and held out his hand.

"Get away from me!" Diana screamed and backed farther into the somewhat darkened corner.

Nick and Ellis looked over, and Rochelle continued to clean her gun.

"I just want to help. I want to clean your guns." He said.

"Go away. I don't want you near me." Her voice calmed down, but she still put her attitude forth.

He walked away. Nick, in turn, walked up to her.

"He just wanted to clean your guns up, princess."

"I don't need your attitude, white-out."

"Give your guns to me." He held out his hand.

"No. Can't you take a hint?" Diana answered the question before he could reply. "Of course you can't. You're a man. Men can't think for themselves."

He was silent. She scowled at him. He stood still for a little bit before turning on his heel. Looking at Ellis, she was expecting him to walk up to her. He stood up, slowly, and silently walked up to her. He squatted down so he was eye-level, with his crystal blue eyes looking into her blue eyes. It calmed her down, surprisingly.

"Miss, could Ah see yer guns?" He asked gently.

"No." She didn't want him to hint at her calmness, so she took a bigger effort to snap at him.

"Dee, give him your pistols and the shotgun." Rochelle interrupted.

Dee gave up, and gave Ellis her guns to clean. He smiled warmly and walked back to his spot and pulled out a towel. Diana got up while he was cleaning her guns, and whispered to Rochelle.

"Don't ever ask me to give anything to a man again." She made sure her venomous stare caught her eye.

Rochelle turned to her, matching her stare with her own poisonous glare, and darkly said, in a low tone, “Don’t give me a reason to.”

 

~__A Few Seconds Later__~ 

 

Dee continued to walk past Nick and Coach, before she stopped in front of Ellis. He was cleaning one of her pistols, when he looked up at her. She squatted down in front of him, squinting to get a better look at him. He had a scratch running across his nose, and looking farther down, saw that his shirt was conformed to his chest from sweat, and had not only bloodstains, but also rips and scratch marks. 'He must have gotten pinned by a zombie,' She thought.

"Here's yer shotgun 'nd yer pistols." He broke her attention and she snapped her eyes to his. His hand was held out slightly with her pistols and balancing the shotgun on the palm of his other hand. Diana took them, with a little more force than necessary, nodded once to show her thanks, and stood up again. Once she had her weapons, she shuffled back to her corner, and slid down the wall to the floor. Cradling the guns in her arms, she eventually fell asleep.

 

_She was running from them. They were slowly closing in on her, but when she turned the corner of the alleyway, her panic suddenly changed to terror. It was a dead end. Slowly turning around, she saw her father with his friends pointing guns at her._

_"Why do you want to kill me?" Diana started to sob._

_"You killed the only love of my life." My father smiled wickedly. "So I will finally get my revenge."_

_"I'm sorry!" she cried._

_He mumbled something along the lines of "sympathy won't get you anywhere", and with a simple wave of his hand and turn of the heel, he told his friends to kill her. Gunshots were fired, and suddenly, she felt nothing._

Diana woke up with a blood-curdling scream. Ellis, Coach, Rochelle, and Nick sat up abruptly and looked to her. She was practically hyperventilating from the dream, and once she calmed down, she looked around to see everyone looking at her.

"Are you okay, Diana?" Rochelle was the first to ask, since she knew Diana wouldn't answer to anyone else.

"Yeah," she sighed, "It was just a nightmare."

The men fell back to sleep almost right away, while Rochelle and Dee talked a little more.

"Rochelle?" She whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Why…I mean, how do you put up with these guys?" She looked to her left, where her silhouette was.

"It takes a lot of patience, but once you get to know them, they tend to understand you better, and respect you. I guess they get nicer the longer you stay with them." They looked over to one of the silhouettes that shifted. Diana waited a little bit before she replied.

"You must be one of those 'equality for all' kind of people." She snickered.

"Yes," Dee heard her voice rise slightly. "I happen to _like_ men. Why do you hate men so much?" She was a little shocked at her sudden change of topic.

"I'd rather not say. It's too uncomfortable." She shifted away from Rochelle.

"C'mon, you can tell me. The guys aren't listening."

"How do you know they aren't?" Her attitude was back.

"They are asleep. They sleep like babies." She guessed it was her hint for her to tell her.

She told her her life story practically, because the abuse from her father was pretty much her life. She sat there, listening, as she told her about all the things he did to her, and ended with the dream she screamed about. Dee looked back at her eyes, but it was so dark that all she saw was only the silhouette of her face.


	4. Would You Like a Side of Blindness With That Hate?

They all woke up to the pink and orange light of dawn. She didn't recall ever going to sleep, though. Nick and Coach were double-checking all of their supplies (except for hers; Diana checked hers herself.) to make sure that they had everything they needed before heading outside to the zombie-infested world. Rochelle was reloading all of the guns, while Ellis and Dee were standing at the saferoom door, shooting at the occasional zombie that walked by. She could feel someone staring at her, but she chose to ignore it, mainly because it was probably either Nick or Ellis.

"'Ey, Dee?" She pinched the bridge of her nose with her finger and thumb of her free hand, and slowly turned to Ellis while pulling her hand away.

"Yeah?" She said as calmly as possible.

"Did ah ever tell you 'bout the time me an' Keith were makin' fireworks? Well, Keith figured…" He continued on, with Diana tuning him out completely. She looked over to Rochelle, who had the same expression of 'will he ever shut up' on her face. Diana smiled slightly, and turned to Ellis, who had stopped.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" She asked.

"Did you ever have uh crush on someone?" Dee dropped her pistol.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Rochelle tense up a lot. Everyone else stopped what they were doing and looked at Ellis and her. Dee looked up to Ellis, who was still waiting for an answer.

"Do you want the truth, Ellis?" Diana asked.

He stared into her eyes with such curiosity, she almost felt bad for the attitude she gave him. Almost.

"No. I have never had a 'crush' on anyone. I don't like men."

"So…yer…gay?" He was trying to register what she said.

"No. I'm not 'gay'. I don't love men. But I don't love women either. Am I speaking a foreign language here?" She was aiming the question mostly at everyone, not just Ellis.

Dee looked around the saferoom, and snorted. Opening the door, she walked outside into the zombie-infested world, with her shotgun around her back (she wouldn't let anyone touch it, let alone touch her) and one of her pistols still in her hand. Her hands were shaking, not because of fear or anger, but because she had gotten really nervous talking about her love life. 'I don't love anyone,' She told herself over and over again.

Diana shot a few common infected wandering around, to try to distract herself from what happened back at the saferoom. Unfortunately, the event didn't leave her mind.

In fact, it came back more than she wanted it to; so much that she had to stop where she was. Dee didn't even see the approaching witch coming from around the corner. She blindly walked towards the sound, forgetting that she was alone. The only reason she snapped into reality again was when she saw the witch starting to come toward her screaming. Instantly, she ran out the way she came and sprinted to the saferoom she walked out of earlier. It was weird though, because she didn't feel like she was running fast enough, but the proof came when she tripped over a dead zombie she shot minutes ago. Rolling over on her back, the witch closed in on Diana. Her life was flashing before her eyes.

All of the people that she hit, the abuse from her father, the people who tried to help her but got rejected, then all of the times she had yelled at my team mates. It was mainly at Nick and Ellis, but for the first time in her life, she actually wanted to apologize to them. She heard gunshots, but she still felt claws tearing at her chest. Then, she couldn't feel or see anything.

The gunshots and screams halted, and there was no longer a witch scratching at her that she could feel.

She felt someone trying to bandage her torso, but they mumbled something.

"I don't think she'll make it out alive, guys." Coach?

"She's got to. The cuts aren't that deep." Dee knew that was Rochelle.

"It's not the cuts that are killing her."

"What is it, then?"

"She's got…scars? They've been opened up by that witch."

"Scars? Where did she get those? Was it from those zombies she 'oh-so-stubbornly' wanted to take on alone? Or was it because of her sex-life?" Nick said, laughing at his own joke. A few seconds later, Diana heard a slap, followed by an “ouch!”.

"She was abused by her father. That's why she hates men." Rochelle confessed.

"Oh no. Guys! Ah think she's losin' her pulse!" Ellis. Dee knew that southern voice right away.

Wait. Her pulse? As in, she’s going to die?

"We're going to have to let her die. There's nothing we can-"

"G-guys?" Dee had a hard time talking.

She heard silence, so she kept talking.

"I'm sorry about my-" she winced in pain, "-My attitude."

 

**Ellis' P.O.V.**

 

Her pulse completely stopped. Ellis’ hand was still on her wrist, with tears welling up in his eyes. Ellis felt Rochelle and Coach's hands on his shoulders.

"Sorry, Ellis." Coach said. "We tried our best."

He sniffled.

"Aw, Hee-haw. I'm sorry. We all had our loving moments with her, even Nick."

"Ah wanted t' help her." He choked, trying to hold back the overwhelming scene before him.

The rest of the group stood in silence. Coach helped Ellis up and they all stood for a short time before leaving Diana in the street.


End file.
